


Smoke and Mirrors

by Vizkopa



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Detective!Smoker, F/M, Las Vegas, Magicians, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2018-11-22 19:57:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11387310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vizkopa/pseuds/Vizkopa
Summary: It was all over the papers—Vegas Magician Dead in Performance Freak Accident. But was it really an accident? Detectives Smoker and Tashigi are on the case.





	1. Chapter 1

It was all over the papers— _Vegas Magician Dead in Performance Freak Accident_. The media had flocked to Las Vegas despite the oppressive heat in hopes of being the first to catch the scoop of the century. When Detective Smoker pulled up on his black BMW R75 motorcycle, he had to push his way through the crowds surrounding the Rain Dinners Hotel and Casino—a feat that was not difficult for him considering his six feet and nine inches towered over everyone else by a non-insignificant margin. He must have struck a fearsome sight in black wrap around shades and a leather biker jacket even in the dry heat of the desert.

He ducked under the yellow and black striped police tape and stopped at the entrance to snuff out his cigars—they wouldn’t let him smoke at the crime scene. He took the opportunity to look up at the casino in all its gaudy glory. It was shaped like a pyramid, thirty stories of gold and glass that gleamed in the early morning sun, towering over the hotels surrounding it. At its very peak sat perched a huge, golden crocodile, leering down at the crowd gathered on the sidewalk below with a jagged smile. Smoker grimaced back at it and stepped through the glass double doors into the air-conditioned lobby.

His partner, Tashigi, greeted him with a coffee in her outstretched hand—black and bitter and scalding hot, just the way he liked it. He nodded his thanks.

The crowd of police officers and forensics investigators parted for them as they approached the body, already supine in its body bag on the gurney. The distinct smell of charred flesh still hung heavy in the air.

“What a horrible way to go,” Tashigi sighed.

Smoker grunted in agreement, peeling back the corner of the body bag to examine the corpse. It was burnt beyond the point of recognition. They would need to compare his dental records if they had any hope of identifying him.

But was there any need? Everyone already knew the identity of the body in that bag. Basil Hawkins was famous and news of a celebrity death always travelled fast. Smoker had already heard three wildly different retellings of the event from individuals claiming they had been there when it happened on his way into the casino. He would have laughed at them if he hadn’t already known he would be expected to interview every single one of them.

_What a fucking waste of time,_ he thought.

“Have you spoken with the assistant?” he asked Tashigi.

“Not yet,” she replied. “I was waiting until you got here.”

“Let’s go then.”

The assistant turned out to be a young woman, possibly in her mid-twenties. Her makeup was smeared and her eyes were rimmed in red but it was obvious she was suited to the glamorous lifestyle typical of a Vegas performer. Her shoulders were squared proudly beneath the heavy coat that had been draped around them and a slinky red satin dress clung tightly to her frame, a daring slit up the side that reached high enough for even Smoker to have to tear his eyes away from the smooth sliver of thigh it revealed. Her arms and legs were crossed in a stand-offish manner, one six-inch heeled foot tapping the air impatiently.

They approached.

“Are you Miss [Last Name]?”

She nodded.

“We’re detectives with the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department. I’m Detective Smoker, this is my partner Detective Tashigi. Mind if we ask you a few questions?”

She glanced briefly at their presented badges and narrowed her eyes at them. “I’ve been answering questions all night, Detectives. I would really appreciate it if I could go back to my room and get some sleep.”

“My apologies for keeping you up, Miss, we just want to be thorough. We won’t take too much more of your time.”

“Fine,” she sighed, pressing her perfectly manicured fingers to her temples. She folded her hands neatly in her lap and turned her gaze expectantly towards them. “How can I help?”

Smoker caught Tashigi’s eye and she returned his look of disdain. They both sat down on the couch across from the woman. Her foot continued its endless tapping and she refused to meet their eyes, instead choosing to settle on a spot somewhere just over Smoker’s shoulder.

“You were Basil Hawkins’ assistant, is that correct?”

“That’s correct.”

“You were on stage when the, uh… _incident_ occurred?”

“I was.” Her voice shook ever so slightly at the recalled memory.

“Can you tell us a bit about that specific part of the act?”

He looked down at her hands, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip. “You know, it was his stupid idea to set himself on fire in the first place. These damn magicians, always trying to one-up each other with more and more dangerous stunts. He should have been wearing fire repellant clothing, but… I don’t know how this could have happened! We go through rigorous safety checks every night to make sure something like this _never_ happens!”

Smoker leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Did you happen to see anything suspicious before the show? Any people backstage that shouldn’t have been there?”

She shook her head. “No, nothing like that. I mean, it’s always chaos right before a show. If anything did happen, I would have been too busy with preparations to notice.”

Smoker nodded. Tashigi jotted down her notes, pausing briefly to wait for the next question.

“Just one last question, if that’s alright with you, Miss [Name]?”

She motioned him to go ahead.

“Can you think of anyone that would have wanted to hurt Mr. Hawkins? Anyone who might have held a grudge?”

“I thought the police were treating this as an accident?” she replied cautiously.

Smoker shrugged. “That very well may be, but we can’t rule anything out at this point in the investigation.”

[Name] hesitated, then took a breath, speaking slowly. “Our line of work is incredibly competitive, especially in an environment such this. Basil and I had to be cut-throat to get where we are today. It wouldn’t surprise me if we pissed off a few people along the way.”

“Enough to want him dead?”

“I don’t know. Am I free to go now?”

Smoker eyed the woman carefully for a long moment, and she stared back, meeting his steely gaze dead on for the first time that morning. Her eye contact remained unwavering, just daring him to doubt her words in the slightest. If he wasn’t careful, he was sure those eyes could swallow him whole. He blinked, breaking the contact, and got to his feet. Tashigi followed, stowing her notepad away in her bag.

“Thank you for your time, Miss [Name].” He rummaged in his pocket for his card and held it out to her. “If you think of anything else that might be relevant to this investigation, please don’t hesitate to call me.”

She took the card, glancing between the number—printed in simple black ink across the paper—and his face. She smiled, tight-lipped, and tucked the card into the front of her bodice. The corner of her mouth twitched slightly as she caught his eyes following the movement.

“Of course, Detective.” He didn’t miss the distinct purr to her voice as she spoke the words, sending a pleasant tingle up his spine.

He could feel her eyes on the back of his neck all the way back to the front of the lobby. He had a sneaking suspicion they would not be seeing the last of that woman. Not by a long shot.

“So, what’s next?” Tashigi asked.

“I’m thinking we should go have a little chat with the owner of the casino. Shall we?”

“Lead the way.”


	2. Chapter 2

Smoker looked out onto The Strip from the penthouse suite of the Rain Dinners Hotel and Casino. A mirage hung heavy in the air, a blanket of heat beating down on the city from the midday sun far above. There was nothing Smoker hated more that Vegas in July and, though he never showed it, he was eternally grateful to be inside on a day such as this.

Behind him, he could hear Tashigi speaking but it was if he was hearing her from very far away. For some reason, he couldn’t stop replaying their encounter with the magician’s assistant over and over in his mind. There was something about her that kept bringing his thoughts back to the subtle curve of her lips and the delicate skin of her throat. He snapped himself out of it quickly. A suspect—no matter how pleasing to the eye—was not an appropriate recipient for his impure thoughts. He turned from the window to face the room.

“Mr. Crocodile, did you know the victim?” Tashigi was perched in a plush armchair before the large black and gold desk, looking rather small in comparison to the man seated behind it.

Smoker had seen his type before—hotel business tycoons that have too much money to know what to do with. There was no shortage of men like him in a city like Las Vegas. He had no doubt this man could pay Smoker’s rent for an entire year with only the cost of the rings on his right hand.

The voice that answered Tashigi was gruff, but strangely smooth. For some reason it brought to mind sand trickling through an hourglass. “We were never formally introduced. My assistant handles the hiring of most of the entertainment.”

Tashigi jotted a few words down on her notepad and Smoker’s lips twitched in an almost-smile. Always by the book.

“I see. Were you present when the accident occurred?”

“I was not.”

“Can you account for where you were between 9 and 10pm last night?”

“Entertaining a guest. In my private suite.” He leaned back in his chair, observing the two detectives with a wary expression.

“Can your… _guest_ corroborate on that?”

“Yes. As can the waiter who served us.” 

Either the man was telling the truth, or he was an exceptional liar. Tashigi always gave suspects the benefit of the doubt, but Smoker had been at this far longer than her. He knew it never did well to trust the word of anyone. Especially a man with money.

Smoker sat down in the seat beside Tashigi, but remained silent, observing the man across the desk from him. Crocodile pulled a silver case from his coat pocket and pulled out a cigar. Well… Smoker couldn’t doubt the man had good taste in tobacco. Noticing the way Smoker was eyeing the cigars, Crocodile smirked and offered him the case.

“A man of good taste, I see.”

Smoker shook his head minutely. He hadn’t had a smoke all morning and he could feel the addiction demon clawing at its cage to get to the offered cigar. But he refused to break.

Crocodile tucked the case back into his coat with a shrug and lit the cigar, taking a long drag. As hardened as Smoker liked to think he was, he couldn’t help but inhale, the weak, second-hand smoke a poor substitute for the real thing. It only mode the cravings worse. He gritted his teeth and willed this interview to be over soon.

“We’re going to need the name of the waiter,” Tashigi said, oblivious to the exchange between the two men. “And we’d like to talk to your assistant. In fact, we’re going to need a list of all guests and employees that were present in the hotel on the day of the mur—accident. Even those who checked out before the performance.”

Smoker cringed. It wasn’t supposed to be public knowledge that it was a suspected murder just yet. But if Crocodile noticed her slip up, he didn’t let on.

Crocodile waved his hand dismissively, and for the first time Smoker noticed the left hand was strangely rigid, sheathed in a black leather glove. “Do what you will. The sooner all this bad press surrounding my casino is dispelled, the better. Robin!”

The door opened, and a tall, dark-haired woman entered and bowed to room. “Yes, Mr. Crocodile?”

“Please compile a list of all employees and guests that visited the hotel over the last two days. And send it to the LVMPD when you’re done.”

“Of course, sir.” The assistant bowed again and left as swiftly as she came.

“I believe that’s all we need from you for now,” Tashigi said. “Thank you for your time. We’ll be in touch.”

The detectives stood in unison and made to leave, but before they could reach the door, Crocodile called them back.

“Detective Smoker,” he said, rising from his chair. He outstretched his hand, a single cigar clutched in bejewelled fingers. “For the road.”

Smoker hesitated, but his cravings got the better of him. He took the cigar and tucked it in the breast pocket of his jacket. He nodded his thanks, to which Crocodile only smiled, and followed Tashigi out.

As the door swung shut behind them, Smoker growled:

“I don’t trust him.”

“You don’t trust anyone, sir.”

Smoker let out a grunt that was almost a laugh. “I don’t think he’s directly involved. But I highly doubt anything happens in this hotel without him knowing about it.”

“You might be right.”

“When am I ever wrong?”

“What’s our next course of action?”

Smoker thought for a moment. “Let’s take a look in the vic’s room. Have forensics been through yet?”

“Yes, earlier today. They didn’t find anything.”

“That because they didn’t look hard enough. Let’s go.”

Smoker started off down the hallways and Tashigi hurried to keep up.

“What do you think you’re going to find?”

“Something. Anything. This case is dirty all over and someone has to have tracked that dirt _somewhere_. There’s no such thing as a perfect crime.”

“And if it really was just an accident?”

“One thing I’ve learned from this job over the years, is if there’s money or fame involved, it’s never an accident.”

Tashigi looked troubled. “For the record, I hope you’re wrong.”

“When am I ever wrong?”


	3. Chapter 3

The door was barred by black and yellow police tape, but Tashigi ignored it as she swiped the key card and stepped under the tape into the room. Smoker stood before the threshold, rolling the cigar Crocodile had given him between his fingers. He was distracted. His mind always seemed to wander when the cravings took hold.

This time, they were wandering to the door adjacent to Hawkins’ room, the gilded number looming, beckoning him. He wondered is she was in there. He wondered if she would answer if he knocked, if she’d give him that same coy half smile she had shown in the lobby and invite him inside and—

A short scream interrupted his thoughts. At any other time, he would have welcomed the intrusion, but he recognised the voice as Tashigi’s. He burst through the yellow tape, the expensive cigar forgotten in favour of his gun, which he kept pointed at the floor as he switched on the light. Tashigi stood with her back pressed against the wall by the light switch, looking somewhat sheepish.

“I’m sorry, I thought there was someone in here, but it was just… this…”

Smoker breathed a sigh of relief and holstered his gun, taking a step forward to examine the figure seated in the armchair by the fireplace. He understood why Tashigi had screamed. At first glance, it was as if Basil Hawkins had returned to life and had simply been asleep in his armchair all this time. A perfect replica of the magician sat in the chair, it’s limbs stiff and immoveable and it’s face devoid of emotion. Smoker shuddered.

“I don’t blame you. What the hell is this thing?”

“It looks like… some kind of decoy? Part of his act maybe?” Tashigi prodded the effigy with the end of her pen. “It’s stuffed with straw,” she exclaimed, pushing her glasses higher onto her nose to get a better look.

“Straw, huh…” Smoker mused. “Highly flammable. Maybe this was what was supposed to burn on that stage, not Hawkins. It’s a damn good likeness but failing to switch out the real thing with this is not exactly a mistake you just make.”

Tashigi nodded emphatically. “This was definitely not just an accident.”

“Make a note to ask the assistant about it when we get her down to the station later. In the meantime, let’s see what else we can find.”

They searched the room top to bottom but turned up no further clues. There were no signs anything had been tampered with, no evidence there was any kind of scuffle that could lead to a suspect. Smoker was just about to call it quits when he noticed the white corner of a card peeking out from between the cushions of the chaise lounge. He strode over to it and pulled the card free.

It was a tarot card from the major arcana. A hooded figure dressed all in black, a scythe in one hand and a white lily in the other. The Roman numeral XIII was printed in black along the bottom and beside it, ‘Death’.

“Well, that’s not ominous at all…” he growled.

Tashigi peered over his shoulder. “It looks like it’s been custom made. Look, it has the artist’s signature in the corner.”

She was right.

“Trafalgar D. Law. Why is that name familiar?”

“Probably because he’s a guest here at the hotel.” Tashigi held up the guest list Crocodile’s assistant had given her. “Looks like he’s a fellow magician too.”

Smoker gave her a meaningful look. “Rivalry as motive, perhaps?”

“Could be. We won’t know unless we talk to him.”

Smoker nodded. “Find out what room he’s in. We’ll pay him a visit.” Guess his smoke break would have to wait.

They exited the room, Tashigi letting the door click shut behind her. The door of the room next door clicked open and [Name] peered out.

“I heard a scream.” Her eyes were rimmed in red instead of their usual dramatic cat eye and she clutched the lapels of a silk night gown close to her chest. She looked younger like this, Smoker thought. Just a girl caught up the glitz and glam of Vegas.

Tashigi smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I was just startled. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

[Name] sighed and stepped out into the hall. “It’s fine. It’s not I was getting any sleep anyway.” Her gaze turned to Smoker. “Did you find anything interesting?”

“You mean besides the perfect likeness of your employer sitting there like this is Madame Tussauds?”

“Yeah that thing always creeped me out too… It should have been it burnt to a crisp on that stage.” Her voice was hoarse, as if she had been crying, and it cracked at the end. “I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologise. We understand you’ve been through something traumatic, but when you’re ready, we’d like to see you down at the station for more thorough questioning.”

“Of course, Detective. Whatever you need.”

“We’ll call you with the details.”

She smiled wanly. “Mm, a handsome cop has my number and all he wants is to talk about work, work, work. Such a shame.”

“It’s necessary for the investigation.”

She hummed, looking him up and down. “Well, until then Detectives.” She nodded to each of them and returned to her room, shutting her door tightly behind her after one last lingering glace in Smoker’s direction.

Tashigi exhaled. “That woman… I can’t tell what her angle is.”

Smoker didn’t reply. Truth was, he didn’t know either. Normally he could read people as easily as a magician reads cards, but there was something odd about [Name]. Every time he thought he had her pegged, she showed him someone different. A mistress of illusions. He supposed that was why she was in show business.

“I need a smoke,” he said gruffly, becoming suddenly very aware of the trembling in his hand. “Let me know when you’ve located the magician.”

Before Tashigi could protest his bad habit, he strode away, his heavy boots echoing in the empty hall.

**Author's Note:**

> New mini series I've had planned for a while ^^ Released as Day 3 of my 2k Watchers Celebration on DeviantART.


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